Blaque as the Night
by Disgruntled Peony
Summary: 3rd story in the Reversed Images series. On Bobby's first assignment with the Agency, he and Darien are sent to recapture a woman who is even more classified than he is.
1. Prologue

Title: Blaque as the Night  
Author: liz_Z  
E-mail: liz_Z@secret-agent.com  
Category: Action/Adventure, Drama  
Rating: PG-13  
Spoilers: Not exactly, but if there are, they'll be for Catevari'  
Season/Sequel info: Third story in the Reversed Images' series  
Disclaimer: Don't own any of the characters (at least, I don't own the canon ones); I just like totally rearranging the show's continuity.  
Author's notes: A few months back I returned from an almost two-week-long car trip that included, but was definitely not limited to, my attendance of I-maniCon 2002. On said trip, I made the unfortunate discovery that long car trips cause accelerated breeding of new plot bunnies (which is not a good thing when one considers how many unfinished stories I have already). So, in my attempt to ignore the half a dozen new bunnies that were jumping out of the woodwork, I started to type this up instead (oh, and just so you know, the bunny-ignoring part didn't work -- you're sure to hear more from me in the future).

  
Prologue

  
Deep in the bowels of a supposedly abandoned building, a group of scientists in haz-mat suits stood in a sterile laboratory, swarming around a large metal door and the panel of thick glass beside it. The room on the other side of the glass was dark and poorly ventilated, barely habitable. But it was safe -- at least, for the people outside. They all stood around the window and peered inside, watching nervously as its lone inhabitant paced the confines of the room anxiously, muttering to herself.

The woman was thin and shapely, with long, dark hair spilling over her shoulders. She could have been considered beautiful, if it wasn't for her eyes. They were a bright, fiery red, and seemed a stark contrast with her delicate features.

Without warning the woman looked up, staring straight at the portal. Her expression never stayed the same for more than a second; it kept changing, as if she couldn't decide what she should be feeling. One minute she looked terrified, the next moment consumed by despair, the next possessed by a murderous rage. Go away, she pleaded, her tone both frightened and threatening at the same time.

Can she see us? one of the scientists asked, glancing nervously over at the others. His name was Jimmy Deharty, he was new to the project, and he felt distinctly shaken by the sight of the strange woman behind the glass.

No, it's a one-way mirror another scientist replied, shaking his head in the negative. He seemed entranced by the figure behind the glass, and watched her every move with a hungry gaze that to Jimmy seemed almost as unnerving as the woman herself.

Go away, the woman repeated, her voice sounding distinctly hostile now. I don't want to hurt you. Her inner battle was raging on, and it looked as if the anger was winning. Her expression was growing more menacing with every second.

Maybe we should leave, Jimmy said nervously.

Don't worry, it'll be fine, the head scientist replied, placing a gloved hand on the frightened man's shoulder. You'll get used to this eventually. Just don't let her touch your skin. He turned to the others and said in a stern tone, Alright people, let's do this. The other men scurried to obey him, taking up pre-ordained positions with familiar ease. They had done this many times before, and would do so many times again. It was just part of the job.

One of the scientists walked over and began the sequence that would de-pressurize the door, allowing him and his colleagues to go inside. Other men prepared the lone hospital bed for use, undoing the restraining straps and standing at the ready. The head scientist handed Jimmy a long needle filled with a clear liquid. Just inject her with the sedative and get out of there. That's all you need to do, you got that Deharty? Jimmy nodded, eyes wide. The head scientist nodded toward the man standing by the door. The man pressed a final button and the door swung open with a hiss.

Jimmy took a deep breath and stepped into the darkened room, gripping the needle in his right hand nervously. As soon as he stepped into the room the woman whirled around to look in his direction, her eyes filled with fright. Jimmy held up his hands in a placating gesture. D-don't worry ma'am, I'm not going to hurt you, he said, silently berating himself for stuttering. He hadn't stuttered since the fifth grade, why was he starting again now? Because he was scared silly, that was why.

Get away from me, the woman said in a warning tone, backing slowly toward a corner of the room.

I'm not going to hurt you, Jimmy repeated, hoping he sounded braver than he felt. I'm just going to give you something to help you relax, that's all.

The woman laughed, a sharp, bitter sound that caused Jimmy to jump. I haven't been relaxed in years. An anguished expression crossed her face and she fell to her knees, gasping for breath. she said, her voice taking on a feral tone. Get out of here NOW! Then she leapt to her feet and lunged at Jimmy in one smooth motion, snatching the needle from his hand and stabbing it through the cloth of the haz-mat suit and into his arm.

I warned you, she said, a maniacal grin spreading across her face.

Jimmy could hear chaos erupting in the next room. Frantic cries of Close the door! Close the door! were easily audible, along with the noise caused by half a dozen terrified scientists scrambling to do just that. However, they were too late, and the woman slid smoothly through the space left by the open door.

Jimmy tried to crawl out of the room, but he only made it halfway out of the door before the tranquilizer began to take effect and his muscles refused to obey him. He did, however, have a perfect view of what was going on in the lab. Several of the scientists were rushing at the woman in an attempt to subdue her, but she was able to dodge their attacks easily. They, however, seemed easy prey for her. Within two minutes all of them, including the head scientist, lay moaning on the ground.

The woman bent over the head scientist, the corners of her mouth turned up in a cruel sneer. she said in an icy tone, have made my life a living hell. She leaned over, removing the helmet from the terrified scientist's head. Time that you went there yourself. She placed a hand on each side of the man's face and kissed him long and full on the lips. The man struggled, but both he and Jimmy already knew it was too late.

The woman repeated her performance with each of the other scientists in the room. Finally she came to Jimmy. She removed his helmet with a flourish, bending down until her face was mere inches from her own. He looked up at her with frightened eyes, knowing he could do nothing to stop her. However, she paused before administering the kiss of death. You haven't done anything to me, she said quietly, not yet anyway. They haven't corrupted you yet. I think... she paused for a moment, licking her lips, I think I'll let you live.

She stood, turning around and surveying the carnage she had single-handedly caused. Then she turned and walked out of the room. Jimmy heaved a sigh of relief that the woman had seen fit to let him live. Then the tranquilizer took its full effect and he passed out.


	2. Part One

Part 1

  
So this is the Agency, huh? Bobby asked, looking up at the Harding Building with a skeptical expression on his face. He was far from impressed.

Yep, this is the place, Darien said, nodding. Quite a piece of work, I tell ya. The roof leaks, the wiring is faulty, half the toilets don't work....

Not exactly something you'd see in Home and Garden, eh?

Darien laughed. Definitely not. But you get used to it after a while.

As they walked through the door, Bobby frowned. Okay, I gotta ask -- why Fish and Game?

Darien winced. They were the only ones the Official could convince to sponsor us this year.

Bobby shook his head. If you ask me, the whole thing just sounds like a big joke.

The rest of the alphabet agencies think so too. But at least this gives us kind of a back door. Most people don't expect someone working for F&G to work any serious cases, except maybe animal smuggling, so the bad guys are too busy laughing to notice what we're up to until we slap the handcuffs on their wrists," Darien said wryly. He stopped in front of a small room. This is our office.

Bobby looked inside and wrinkled his nose in disgust. What, does it double as the janitor's closet?

The Fish wants us to be eager to head out into the field, Darien said, the irritation in his tone making it quite clear exactly what he thought of that.

Well, I think his plan's working, Bobby deadpanned, I wanna get out of here already.

I'm supposed to take you down to Claire's lab so she can give you your shot, and then up to the Official's office for your orientation lecture.

Man, I hate those things, Bobby said, heaving a deep sigh. There isn't any way I can cut class, is there?

Look at it this way. At least you've got a day or two until your first case.

Ooh, a whole day. Not much of a silver lining if you ask me, Bobby muttered.

Darien shook his head, an amused expression on his face. Come on, let's get you down to the lab for your shot. You're getting a little cranky here.

Bobby shook his head, saying defiantly, Am not! Still, he followed Darien down the hall. They quickly came upon a large metal door, which seemed to Bobby rather ominous. Darien fished around in his pockets for a moment and then pulled out a keycard, running it through the appropriate slot on the right-hand side of the door. The door slid open with a whoosh, and Darien walked inside. Bobby followed, albeit in a tentative fashion.

Whatever he had expected to find when he walked through the door, it certainly wasn't what he saw. Florescent lights bathed some areas of the room in an otherworldly glow. There were Bunsen burners, beakers filled with strange liquids, and a variety of other medical and scientific equipment, but there were also plants and several glass cages, in which were located a variety of animals: Lab-rats, naturally, but also some fish, a snake, and even a tarantula. Much to Bobby's amusement, Darien seemed bent on avoiding the tarantula.

Then Bobby saw the woman on the other side of the room, and for one telltale moment he forgot to breathe. She was hunched over a microscope mesmerized by what she saw. Bobby found himself wishing that he knew what it was that held her attention so raptly.

Darien walked over to the woman and tapped her on the shoulder. Hey Claire, you've got company.

Claire looked up, surprised. Oh, hi Darien. She turned and looked at Bobby, giving him a friendly smile. And you must be Mr. Hobbes, she said, extending her hand.

That's me, Bobby said, shaking her hand. Bobby Hobbes, at your service. You can call me Bobby," he added, a husky quality dripping into his tone.

Well, if you'll just have a seat, Claire said, gesturing at a very uncomfortable-looking chair, I'll give you your shot.

Bobby winced; he had hoped that Claire wouldn't want to get down to business so quickly. He sat down, discovering in the process that the chair was every bit as uncomfortable as it looked to be, and pulled up his shirtsleeve. He watched nervously as Claire prepped a needle and pulled out a tourniquet. She wrapped it around his arm, waited for a vein to appear, and then plunged the needle into his arm. Bobby did his best to muffle the hiss as she injected the counteragent into his bloodstream, but he was only half-successful.

There, that wasn't so bad, was it? Claire asked, pulling out the needle and removing the tourniquet.

Bobby resisted the urge to say that yes, it was. Instead, he flexed his arm in an experimental fashion and muttered, Coulda been worse.

After your meeting I'm going to need you to come back to the lab for some tests, Claire said, looking pointedly at Bobby.

Bobby repeated, wincing. Can't we just hang out and swap life stories or something instead?

Claire shook her head. Sorry, but no deal. I need to see what effects the gland is having on your system, make sure the counteragent isn't interacting strangely with your other medication, that sort of thing.

Bobby nodded reluctantly. Okay, fine. But can we swap life stories too?

A brief smile crossed Claire's face. 

Darien tapped a finger against his watch. C'mon Hobbesy, you can kill time later. The Official's waiting.

Bobby rolled his eyes and started to follow Darien out the door, but Claire stopped him. You'll need this, she said, handing him a keycard identical to the one Darien had used to get into the room earlier.

Bobby gave Claire one of his most charming smiles. Then he hurried out the door to catch up to Darien.

Darien took one look at Bobby and held up a hand warningly. She's not available.

Bobby's heart sank. Darien had answered his question before he had even gotten up the nerve to ask. 

Darien shook his head. 

Bobby said, a sympathetic look appearing on his face. The memory of Vivian's death was still fresh in his mind, and though they had never actually been married, and had barely seen each other in the span of the last six years, the blow had still been a rough one for him. He couldn't imagine how painful it must have been to lose someone who you had believed you were going to spend your entire life with. 

Yeah, and she's having a hard time dealing with it, so it might not be a good idea to.... Darien trailed off, freezing in mid-step. Aw crap. He began to back down the hall slowly.

Bobby looked where Darien had been looking and saw a woman standing in the hallway. She was tall and shapely, with green eyes and red hair cut in a short bob. And she was looking in Darien's direction. she yelled, a surprised look on her face. She began to run down the hall toward him. Darien stopped backing away, a trapped look on his face. The woman crossed the distance between them in a matter of moments and promptly slapped Darien across the face. Where have you been?

Darien placed a hand on his jaw and glared down at the woman angrily. Well hello to you too, Sophie. He glanced over at Bobby and said in a resigned tone, Bobby Hobbes, Sophie MacCleary. Sophie MacCleary, Bobby Hobbes.

Sophie gave Bobby a flirtatious wink. Hey there, cutie.

Bobby, rather befuddled by what had just gone on between Darien and Sophie, as well as Sophie's obvious flirtation, managed a very confused, 

What's a hunk like you doing in a place like this? Sophie asked, a coy smile on her lips.

He's my new partner, Darien said icily.

Sophie said, looking rather disappointed. She turned to Bobby and placed a hand on his shoulder. I am so sorry. Then she turned and walked off down the hall, clicking her tongue disapprovingly. As she walked around a corner Bobby heard her mutter, I'll have to do something about that...

Bobby stared after Sophie in confusion. What was all that about?

Darien scowled. MacCleary was my partner back when I first came to the Agency. She was the reason I got the Official to reassign me to security detail.

She's that bad?

Worse. She's the ultimate ditz. The only things she's even remotely good at are temptation and seduction operations. She can't shoot, she can't drive, and she wears high heels so it's impossible for her to chase a perp on foot. The only reason she hasn't been fired is because she's the Official's niece.

You have a thing for her, don't you? Bobby asked, smirking.

Darien gave Bobby an irritable look. That isn't even remotely funny.

I'm just saying, she's a hot chick.

She's an idiot. They should have sent her packing long ago.

Now who's killing time? Bobby asked, tapping his wrist in the general area that a watch would be if he had been wearing one.

Darien's irritated expression transformed into one of outright anger. Don't start with me. He grabbed Bobby roughly by the sleeve. Then, despite Bobby's protests, Darien pulled him the rest of the way to the Official's office. The two of them stopped for a moment outside the door -- Bobby to calm his nerves a bit, Darien to check his hair. Then Darien flung the door open and the two of them walked into the office.

An obese man was sitting behind a large wooden desk. As Darien and Hobbes entered the room he looked up from the papers he had been reading. You're late, he said, a deep frown on his face.

There was no doubt in Bobby's mind; this was the Official. I needed a shot, sir, he said, purposely neglecting to mention the encounter with, and subsequent discussion about, Sophie MacCleary. He had the feeling the Official would not have approved.

You should have accounted for that beforehand, the Official said tersely.

Darien gave the Official a stubborn look. Maybe we did and your clock is fast.

Maybe you didn't and your watch is slow, the Official countered harshly.

Bobby rolled his eyes. Look, as much as I'm enjoying listening to this little conversation, I'm sure we all have better things to do with our time. Let's just get on with the meeting, huh?

The Official gave Bobby a harsh glare. Don't take that tone with me. I'm the one in charge here. He folded his hands on his desk. Now, let's start the meeting.

Just then a mousy-looking man rushed into the office, his face pale and his breath coming in gasps. He held a large manila folder clutched to his chest. The Official gave him an irritated look. What is it, Eberts?

Bobby frowned, looking at Eberts suspiciously. His suit was slightly rumpled at the moment, but Bobby had the feeling that under normal circumstances it would have been immaculately pressed. He seemed, to all appearances, to be the quintessential yes-man. Even his name was irritating! Eeeeeeeberts. It made Bobby want to punch him on the spot.

Eberts straightened his shirt-collar, saying in a grave tone, We have a problem, sir.

The Official frowned. What sort of problem? Eberts walked over to him and whispered a stream of words in his ear. The Official paled. Call in every available agent. We're going to need every man we can spare to deal with this.

Deal with what? Darien and Bobby asked at the same time, and then looked at each other in annoyance.

You'll find out soon enough, the Official snapped.

Umm, excuse me sir, Bobby said, holding up a hand, but you said to call in all the available agents. Would that mean--

It would and it does, the Official rumbled. Hobbes, you and Fawkes are on the case.

Along with all the rest of the Agency, Darien muttered, a deep frown on his face.

"Umm... not exactly, Eberts said nervously. The only agent not currently working a case-- besides the two of you, that is-- is Agent MacCleary.

Darien paled. Oh crap, please tell me you're joking.

Eberts shook his head. I'm afraid not.

All right then, put MacCleary on the case! the Official bellowed. And not a word out of you, Fawkes, he said, pointing a finger at Darien in an accusatory fashion.

Bobby shook his head. I'm not ready to do this, sir. I don't have any training--

You've been a thief for several years, the Official said gruffly, that counts for quite a bit of training in my book. Anything else you need to know, Fawkes can teach you.

Actually, there's something I need to know right now, Bobby said, giving the Official a pointed look. What exactly are we supposed to be doing?

the Official said in a somber tone, are going to capture a Catevari. 

  
End Part 1

_OK, are y'all gonna kill me now, or do you want me to continue?_


	3. Part Two

Darien asked, the corners of his mouth turning upward in amusement. Is that a sexual position or an Italian opera?

the Official snapped, his eyes flashing with anger. Her name is Allianora Blaque, and she's extremely dangerous. He glanced over at Eberts.

She escaped from captivity last night, Eberts said, opening the folder in his hands and handing a photograph to Darien.

Darien stared at the photograph for a moment and then let out a low whistle. Wow, she's hot.

Hobbes leaned over the armrest of his chair. Hey, let me see.

Just a minute, Darien protested indignantly, pulling the photo away from Bobby's line of sight.

The Official gave Darien an annoyed glare. Agent Fawkes, may I remind you that you are in the workplace, not sitting around in your apartment reading Playboy magazine. Darien rolled his eyes and handed Bobby the photograph.

Bobby could tell at first sight that Darien's assessment of the woman's attractiveness, though rather unprofessional, had nonetheless been correct. She looked to be Hispanic, with long dark hair that spilled over her shoulders and lovely brown eyes. The corners of her mouth were turned up in an enigmatic smile. Hey Fawkes, you were right, he said, nudging Darien with an elbow. She coulda been a model.

She's a killer, the Official said matter-of-factly.

"You can say that again," Bobby said appreciatively, not fully registering the implication in the Official's statement. Eberts held out another photograph. Bobby grabbed the picture, and was greeted by the grisly sight of half a dozen corpses. Eew, you can have this one, Bobby said, making a face and shoving the photo on Darien's lap.

Darien said sarcastically as he saw what the photograph depicted.

Eberts crossed his arms in front of him, speaking in the tone of a schoolboy reciting a report to his teacher. When Miss Blaque escaped from the facility in which she was being held she killed half a dozen scientists, leaving only one man alive. He had been transferred to the project just a week before.

What sort of project? Bobby asked, looking at Eberts suspiciously. He had the distinct feeling that some very important facts were being left out, quite likely on purpose.

That's classified, Eberts said in what seemed to Bobby to be a distinctly smug tone.

Yeah, well so am I, Bobby said, holding up his hand and allowing trickles of quicksilver to flow over it. Within seconds, his hand was completely invisible. Eberts' eyes widened. Bobby allowed his hand to stay invisible for a few moments to get the full effect and then let the quicksilver flake off, scattering onto the floor and down his shirtsleeve.

The Official gave Bobby a withering look. You'll be filled in on the details of this project on a need-to-know basis. Right now, you don't need to know.

Darien held up a hand. Actually sir, I think we do need to know, because I'm not quite clear on how these men died. He held up the photograph questioningly. I mean, sure, these guys show signs of a struggle, and there're a few broken bones here and there, but other than that they don't look too bad. No stab wounds or bullet holes. They're just... dead. How'd she kill them?

She poisoned them, the Official said flatly. That's one of the reasons I'm bringing Hobbes onto the case. Her touch kills. The quicksilver might act as some kind of barrier.

Darien crossed his arms. Wow, you've got this all planned out, don't you?

The Official gave Darien a pointed look. Agent Fawkes, we've been planning for this scenario for over fifteen years.

**********

Several hours later, after Sophie had been briefed -- twice, since she hadn't really paid attention the first time -- Darien and Bobby drove into the parking lot of what appeared to be an abandoned building, but was in actuality the place Allianora had escaped from. Darien had insisted that they investigate the building because they might find clues that had been missed in the initial investigation. The Official had eventually relented and given them directions on how to get there. And, much to Darien's chagrin, Sophie had decided to come along for the ride.  
Bobby glanced over at Darien. So, what do we do first?

Sophie rolled her eyes. That's easy. Get out of the car, of course.

Darien glared at Sophie via the rear view mirror. Was he talking to you? He turned to Bobby. This is gonna be good, old-fashioned detective work. All you have to do is keep an eye out for anything out of the ordinary.

Bobby nodded. Out of the ordinary. Right. He climbed out of the car, followed by Darien and Sophie. The three of them began walking toward the building.

A dark-haired scientist was standing at the entrance, wringing his hands nervously. He rushed over to Darien and asked, Are you the people from the Agency? Darien flashed his badge. The scientist looked at it and nodded. I'm Doctor Jenkins. Follow me. He turned and walked into the building. Darien and Sophie followed, with Bobby bringing up the rear of his own volition. He wasn't particularly eager to walk into that building, which quite frankly looked as though it might collapse at any moment.

Once inside, Bobby's demeanor changed. It became immediately apparent that the falling-down-even-as-we-speak look of the building was completely and totally a sham. From the inside, it was quite obviously sturdy, not to mention furnished with all sorts of fancy computers and other scientific equipment. It reminded him of the place where Kevin had implanted the gland into his brain. He shook his head. Talk about deja vu....

Doctor Jenkins began speaking in hushed tones. I'm sorry about the current lack of staff on active duty, but you see... most of them are dead. He winced. Although I'm sure you heard about that in the briefing.

Darien nodded. Yeah. I was actually wondering if I could see any of the bodies, if they weren't tampered with that is. 

Jenkins nodded. Right this way. He led Darien over to an elevator. Sophie and Bobby followed, Sophie with an expression on her face that bordered on boredom, Bobby with feelings of awe mixed with nervousness. This situation was an eerie reminder of the time he had spent in a similar compound not long ago.

Everyone stepped inside the elevator, and Jenkins pressed the button for the lowest floor. An awkward silence fell on the group as the elevator began to move toward its destination. After a few moments Sophie glanced over at Darien and asked, Have you been working out lately?

Darien glanced over at Sophie, unsure of why she was asking. Yeah, but not as much as I used to. Don't have as much free time on my hands.

Sophie nodded understandingly. I thought you didn't look quite as buff as you used to. She didn't seem to notice the harsh glare she received from Darien because of her comment.

Bobby shook his head. He was beginning to see what Darien had meant about Sophie being the ultimate ditz. She had absolutely no tact, that much was for certain.

Silence once again settled on the group, and didn't lift until the elevator came to a stop. The doors swished open, revealing a dead man sprawled in front of the elevator doors. His eyes were wide open, his face a mask of pain and terror. Bobby winced and looked away. Darien tensed momentarily, but other than that gave no reaction. Sophie frowned and bent down to look at the dead man, poking the haz-mat suit that covered most of his body with one finger. Wow, he doesn't look too good, does he?

Everyone looked at Sophie in disbelief. Jenkins said in a shocked tone, Of course not, he's dead!

I knew that, Sophie said in a defensive tone. She stood up and wiped her hands on her pants. I'm not dumb, you know. Darien rolled his eyes at that, but didn't comment.

Bobby shuddered. Let's get this done and get outta here, okay? This place gives me the creeps. It wasn't just the dead man on the floor that was disturbing him. The corridor alone seemed to have a cold, menacing quality that reminded him of a cross between a hospital and a torture chamber. He had the distinct feeling that many unhappy souls had been tormented in this place. It didn't matter whether it had been for a good cause or not. People had suffered here, and now that suffering was finally beginning to catch up to the people who had caused it.

Jenkins led Darien into a rather large laboratory, which was littered with the bodies of several more corpses, and gestured at a thick metal door that hung ajar. This is the room Miss Blaque escaped from.

Bobby frowned. Looks like a prison cell. He walked past Darien and the scientist and entered the room, shaking his head at what he saw. There were only the bare essentials in this room; a cot in the far corner for sleeping and a small alcove set apart for a toilet and sink. There was no soap in sight. Apparently, the people who had worked here had considered even that to be a possible danger.

Darien walked in after Bobby, but his attention seemed to be more focused on the door than the room behind it. He inspected it carefully and then shook his head in bemusement. How'd she get out? There aren't any signs of force.

Jenkins shrugged. She got the jump on one of our new employees. He's the only member of the C-8400 project who was on duty that survived the massacre.

Darien turned to Jenkins, his expression grave. I want to speak to him.

**********

Darien sat in a chair across from Jimmy Deharty. The man looked groggy and extremely shaken. He was clutching a blanket around his shoulders and shivering, despite the fact that it was a reasonably warm day. Darien leaned forward and said gently, Okay, here's the deal. We're trying to catch the woman who did this. That means we need all the info we can get about her... and that means I need you to tell me what happened here.

Jimmy blanched, his eyes widening. I can't, I just can't do that...

Darien reached into his back pants pocket and pulled out a tape recorder. If you do this now, you'll only have to do it once.

Jimmy closed his eyes and swallowed hard. Darien watched intently, trying to figure out in advance what Jimmy's answer would be. After a long moment Jimmy opened his eyes and said in a shaky tone, Okay... I'll do it.

Darien hit the record button on the tape recorder and then looked over at Jimmy. Okay, shoot.

Jimmy heaved a deep sigh, then began to speak. It was my first week on the job, and they sent me in to anesthetize this woman. She must've been crazy or something, definitely emotionally unstable... Anyway, they sent me in to give her the shot and she began to freak out. She jumped me and stuck the needle in my arm. She got out of the room, and... Jimmy paused for a moment, closing his eyes and taking a shaky breath as he relived the memory, ...and then she began killing people.

How'd she do that? Darien asked. He already knew, thanks to the Official's briefing, but he had to get it on the tape for posterity.

She poisoned them. She touched them.

Darien nodded, and then asked the question that had been foremost in his mind ever since he had been told that Jimmy was alive. So why didn't she kill you?

She almost did. She came this close, Jimmy said, holding up two fingers an inch apart from each other. "But she changed her mind. Said something about how they hadn't corrupted me yet. But don't ask me who they' are.

Bobby, who had been standing off in a corner of the room, shook his head. Come on, isn't it obvious? The guys she killed are the 

Darien gave Bobby a quick nod to let him know that he approved of his leap in logic, and then turned back to Jimmy. Anything else?

Jimmy thought for a moment and then shook his head. Nope. That's it.

Darien nodded and stood up, stopping the tape recorder. Alright, I think we're done here. He walked out of the room, motioning for Bobby to follow him. Bobby stepped out into the corridor, closing the door behind him. Then the two of them began to walk back toward the lab, since Sophie had decided to stay there and examine the place for any further evidence.

Bobby took a deep breath and said in a measured tone, Okay, correct me if I'm wrong here, but I don't think this Blaque lady is just gonna disappear into the woodwork.

Darien nodded. That was my impression too. If she killed all these guys, she might go after others. Probably people involved in the project.

Don't forget the guys who were funding the thing, Bobby added, giving Darien a pointed look.

I'll start researching all the possible targets as soon as we get back to the Agency, Darien said, a resolute expression on his face.

What can I do? Bobby asked.

Nothing right now, Darien said, the beginnings of a smile beginning to form on his face. He held up a hand when Bobby opened his mouth to protest. You're supposed to be reporting to your Keeper, remember?

Bobby groaned. Oh yeah, I forgot. His tone of voice seemed to indicate he hadn't wanted to remember, either.

The two men stopped speaking as they arrived at the door of the lab. Darien glanced inside and saw Sophie standing over one of the corpses, a puzzled look on her face. She looked up as Darien poked his head into the room and promptly straightened, looking as if she felt she had been caught with her hand in the proverbial cookie jar. Darien frowned and motioned for her to come with him, the two of them walking off toward the elevator that would take them up to the ground floor so they could leave the building and put the gruesome scene behind them.

Bobby, however, lingered for a moment. He looked into the room, at the dead bodies littering the floor, and shuddered. He couldn't help but feel that, under the right circumstances, he could have done this. And that was a feeling he definitely wanted to avoid.

**********

Allianora watched quietly as the two men and the woman left the compound. It would only be a matter of time now, only a matter of time.... And sure enough, before long Jenkins walked out of the compound, moving toward his car and pulling out a pair of sunglasses to protect his eyes from the brightness of the California sunset.

Quietly as a cat, Allianora carefully slunk up behind him. He didn't even suspect she was there until she wrapped her hands around his neck, snapping it in one expert move. She didn't bother to savor the death; this one had been more out of necessity than revenge. She just let go of his neck, allowing him to fall to the ground. Then she removed the pair of sunglasses and put them on to hide her eyes, which she knew to be conspicuous.

She had just finished frisking Jenkins for his car keys when she heard a noise and looked up to see a man cowering in the door. She recognized him immediately, although she didn't know his name; he was the man whose life she had spared earlier. He was staring at her, his jaw agape, looking as if he wanted to run but had lost all power to move his legs.

Allianora smiled at the man, dangling the keys in the air, and then unlocked the car. She placed the keys in the ignition, started it up, and drove off, just barely avoiding running over Jenkins' dead body. She hadn't intended to come anywhere near him, but her lack of driving skill was understandable. After all, she had never done it before. 


	4. Part Three

_OK, I would just like to take this moment to apologize for not having posted in forever. I didn't mean to leave y'all hanging like this, but between the stresses of real life, my two-week trip to Alabama, and the lack of inspiration on the part of the plot bunnies, I have been neglecting this story severely. I hope not to leave you hanging like this again. I will probably post slowly, but I do intend to post._

_And now, on with the story!_

Bobby frowned as Darien pulled the car up in front of the Harding building. "Ya know, I really don't wanna do this. I have this thing about doctor's appointments..." 

Darien rolled his eyes. "Just get in there, let Claire look you over, and get out. You wanna get this over with, right?" Bobby nodded reluctantly. "So get it over with," Darien insisted.

Sophie poked her head up through the space between the two front seats. "Hurry back," she said, giving Bobby a distinctly flirtatious wink.

"If he does, it won't be to spend time with you," Darien muttered.

Sophie raised an eyebrow. "Oh, so you think he'd rather spend time with you? Funny, Fawkes, I didn't think you swung that way."

Darien gave Sophie an enraged glare and opened his mouth to protest, but Bobby held up a hand. "Just stop it, you two! Right now. You sound like my parents."

Sophie turned to Bobby. "Your mother thought your father was gay?"

"No!" Bobby yelped. "My point is, you two are giving me a headache, so shut the hell up!"

Darien glared at Sophie. "Get outta the car, before I throw you out."

Sophie rolled her eyes and climbed out of Darien's car. "Okay, it's official -- chivalry is dead."

"Yeah, it died when it met you," Darien mumbled.

Bobby rolled his eyes. "Okay, that's it. I'll take the tests over having to listen to this crap any day." He climbed out of the car and walked into the Agency. He just barely managed to navigate his way by memory back to the lab he had visited that morning and fumbled through his pockets until he found the keycard, sliding it through the slot. The door swung open, allowing him entrance to the lab once again.

"Claire?" he asked, his eyes sweeping across the room in search of his lovely Keeper.

Claire looked up from the stack of files she had been reading. "Hello Bobby," she said, giving him a brief smile. Then, in a tone that carried traces of admonishment, "You're late."

"Yeah, well, the Official found something to keep me busy," Bobby said flippantly. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and tried to ignore the fact that Claire had stood up and was now walking toward a large selection of medical instruments that had been laid out on one of her lab tables. "So, umm... what do I do?"

"Put this on," Claire said, gesturing to a hospital gown that had been placed on the uncomfortable chair Bobby had been given his shot in earlier.

Bobby picked up the flimsy piece of material and raised an eyebrow. "Wow, Keepy, don't you think this is a little sudden?" Claire rolled her eyes. Bobby smirked and unfolded the hospital gown. "So, umm, where am I supposed to change?"

"Over there." Claire pointed at a small partition that had been assembled in a corner of the room. Bobby nodded and walked over and hurriedly stripped off his clothes, more than a little self-conscious about doing this when Claire was just on the other side of the room. Sure, she was a beautiful woman, and a doctor, so she was probably used to seeing men in a state of undress, but Bobby had only met her this morning and he wasn't particularly comfortable with her seeing him in nothing but a hospital gown, no matter the fact that he was attracted to her.

Bobby pulled on the hospital gown and peeked out from behind the partition. "Is it safe to come out?" he asked in a teasing tone that he hoped covered up the nervous quaver he could detect in his voice. He was not looking forward to what was sure to come next.

"Perfectly," Claire said, snapping on a pair of rubber gloves.

Bobby took a deep breath and then stepped out from behind the partition, walking casually, or so he hoped, over to the uncomfortable chair and taking a seat. He shifted his weight in the chair a bit, trying to find a position that didn't make him feel like a bug under a microscope, but finally gave up when that proved impossible.

Claire picked up a jar of Vaseline and walked up to Bobby, matter-of-factly scooping out a large portion of the slimy stuff with two gloved fingers. Bobby raised an eyebrow. "What're you gonna do with that?"

Claire pursed her lips and said in a business-like tone, "Turn over."

Bobby paled. "Aw crap...."

***********

Darien sat in front of an antiquated computer, the only one he had been able to convince Eberts to put in his office. He leaned forward, lifted a hand to the bridge of his nose, closed his eyes, and heaved a deep sigh. He had been doing research for hours, trying to get enough information on the C-8400 project to figure out Allianora's potential targets, but any and all information pertaining to the project seemed shrouded in a mountain of red tape and blacked-out names. The only thing he had succeeded in doing so far was to give himself a headache.

His head snapped up as he heard the sound of the office door creaking open. He turned around just in time to watch Bobby walk in, looking distinctly upset. "Hey Hobbesy, how was the physical?" he asked, standing up and popping his back.

Bobby gave Darien a harsh glare. "Don't. Ask."

Darien quickly began to reevaluate his strategy. Apparently, talking about Bobby's visit to the Keep was not a good idea. "Umm... I did some sniffing around, tried to figure out who Blaque might try to go after next."

"And?" Bobby cocked his head to the side in curiosity.

Darien sighed. "Nothing. That project's even more classified than you are."

"So the fat man wants us to catch this chick, but he won't give us the info to do it?" Bobby shook his head disgustedly.

Darien shrugged. "That's how it always is. They give you a fishing pole and a dinky little lure and then they expect you to use it to catch a whale."

"Yeah, well, I'm not gonna play by those rules. They want me to do this job, then they'd better not keep me in the dark," Bobby growled.

"Like they'd keep us anywhere else," Darien muttered under his breath. He wasn't being sarcastic, merely stating a fact; the Official was notorious for keeping his agents as unknowledgeable of what they were working on as possible.

Darien heard the office door swing open again and looked up just in time to see Sophie walk into the room, an ice cream cone in hand. His brow knitted in frustration and he ran a hand through his hair as he moaned, "What now?" He had had quite enough of Sophie for one day.

"Just came to see if you needed me for anything," Sophie mumbled through her ice cream.

"Nope, we're good," Darien said in a clipped tone.

Sophie stuck out her lower lip in a mock-pout and then ran her tongue up the waffle cone in a sultry manner to lick up a stray rivulet of melted ice cream. Darien just barely managed to resist the temptation to roll his eyes at Sophie's obvious, but admittedly effective, seduction tactics. The one thing Sophie was truly good at was using her body to her advantage. She knew exactly how to get a man's attention....

Darien sat up straighter, a sly grin spreading across his face. "Y'know," he said, eyeing Sophie in a manner that he knew from past experience made her distinctly uncomfortable, "there might be something you can do..."

**********

Bobby smirked as he followed Sophie down the Agency halls, comfortably sheathed in a coating of Quicksilver. Sophie, on the other hand, didn't look at all happy; the rigidity of her posture, the fists clenched at her sides, and the fact that she was muttering choice epithets under her breath all confirmed this. It was all Bobby could do to bite back his laughter.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," Sophie groaned.

Bobby resisted the urge to reply; after all, Sophie had no knowledge of his talent at remaining unseen, and Bobby thought it in his best interests that he kept it that way. From what he had observed of Sophie so far, she was definitely not the best person to go to with a secret.

After a minute Sophie came to a halt in front of a nondescript door, no different from many of the others Bobby had seen in this rundown old building. She muttered one last curse under her breath and twisted the doorknob, swinging the door open. She walked into the room, which was littered with old, mismatched file cabinets. She placed her hands behind her and called in an inquisitive tone, "Hello?"

Eberts poked his head out from behind one of the file cabinets on the far end of the room. "Yes?" He looked slightly puzzled when he saw Sophie standing before him. "Oh, Miss MacCleary...." He absently straightened his tie before continuing, "how may I help you?"

"Well," Sophie said as she forced an attractive smile on her face and began to pace slowly toward Eberts in the manner of a cat stalking its prey, "you know that case Uncle Borden has me working on? I'm a little stuck on it, and I could use some help."

Eberts backed up a few steps, clearing his throat nervously. "Umm... what kind of help?"

Taking full advantage of Eberts' distraction, Bobby slipped into the room and began to read the labels on the file cabinets, searching for the one that held the files Darien had requested of him. They were in the archives somewhere, and Darien had recruited Sophie to distract Eberts while Bobby searched for them. Of course, Darien had told Sophie that she was the one who was supposed to be recovering the files, but after she left the room he had quickly informed Bobby of his true plan.

Sophie finished crossing the space between herself and Eberts and clasped her hands in front of her, her smile taking on a flirtatious quality. "Well, the information we've been given to work with so far is awfully vague, don't you think? I mean, how are we supposed to catch this murderer without any leads?" She leaned forward, giving Eberts an impressive view of her cleavage, and crooned, "The files for the C-8400 project would help."

Bobby knew they would help as well, but he was having a hard time keeping his eyes off of Sophie long enough to run a proper search for them. He wasn't attracted to Sophie in the way he seemed to be drawn to Claire, but the view he currently had of Sophie's rear certainly was impressive. He finally managed to draw his attention away from her backside and returned to his search, just barely managing to ignore Sophie's advances on Eberts, who was by now distinctly flustered.

Bobby eventually located the filing cabinet labeled 'C1-CE' and began to thumb through manila folders, his invisible fingers leaving trails of frost if they lingered on any one item for more than an instant. And there it was, nestled between two folders brimming with papers: C-8400. It was thin when compared to some of the other files located in the cabinet, but it was by no means tiny. Bobby hurriedly allowed the Quicksilver to flow over its surface and then slid the cabinet shut as quietly as possible.

Bobby's attention was abruptly drawn to Eberts as the man took a frantic step back, trying to keep a safe distance between himself and the leg Sophie had just brushed against his thigh. "Miss MacCleary, I don't think this is at all appropriate..." Bobby smirked. Maybe Eberts wasn't so bad after all. He would certainly make a good target for some of Bobby's more interesting practical jokes.

**********

"OK," Darien said, glancing over at Bobby, "let's go over the possibles."

Bobby sat down, picking up one of the personnel profiles scattered across the desk. "Harvey Trancen."

Darien shook his head. "Died of a heart attack six months ago."

"Michael Green."

"He moved on to another project, somewhere in New Mexico."

"Valerie Smithers."

"She was barely involved with the project, Alli wouldn't have much reason to go after her."

Bobby made a face. "Alli?"

"What?" Darien asked defensively. "Allianora's a mouthful."

Bobby pursed his lips in disapproval, but decided not to push the subject. "Rick Sampson."

"Retired. Had a pretty high profile on the project, definitely a possible," Darien said as he typed out notes on his computer.

"Jonathan Fulton."

"He's another one she might go for. The two of them had a lot of contact together, from what I can tell...." Darien held up one of the project files, which had been extensively blacked out but still revealed names and a few minor facts.

Bobby began to shift the profiles in front of him, searching for any names he might have missed. His eyes narrowed as he leaned forward, his jaw clenched. "Fawkes, you might wanna see this."

Darien leaned forward, puzzled. His face paled with shock as he saw the name and photograph Bobby was staring at. "Aw crap, that's...."

Bobby nodded grimly. "Arnaud."


	5. Part Four

Bobby and Darien stormed into the Official's office, twin expressions of betrayed anger on their faces. The Official looked up, his lips thinning as he took in the expressions on his agents' faces. "This had better be good, I'm in the middle of--" 

"What the hell are you trying to pull?" Bobby growled, slapping Arnaud's personnel profile down on the Official's desk.

Eberts threw open the office door and rushed in, completely rattled. "Sir! The C-8400 files, they're...." Darien held up the file folder in his hand, revealing the fact that 'C-8400' was emblazoned prominently on its front. Eberts cleared his throat, somehow managing to stop himself in mid-panic. "...Oh. Apparently they have not been stolen."

"Fawkes!" the Official barked, ignoring the fact that Bobby's face was inches from his own. "Why did you break into the archives?"

Bobby frowned. "Excuse me sir, but I was the one who--"

Darien interrupted before Bobby could finish. "There were some things I needed to know." He walked over to the Official's desk and gestured at the photo of Arnaud, saying in a deceptively casual manner, "I found something extra."

The Official considered this for a moment and then droned, "Arnaud was transferred to the QS-9300 project from C-8400."

"We now believe he tested an earlier version of Quicksilver madness on Miss Blaque," Eberts interjected, "since the disorder Miss Blaque exhibits and the symptoms Mr. Hobbes exhibits seem to be extremely similar." He glanced nervously at Bobby.

"Shut up, Eberts!" the Official growled.

Bobby's brow knitted in a puzzled frown. "So this Blaque chick, she needs counteragent too?" He found it hard to believe that, once someone had experienced the madness, they would actually run away from the thing that would prevent it.

Eberts looked down at the ground and gave a nervous cough. "Actually, no.... There is no cure for Miss Blaque's disorder. It is irreversible."

The Official's face turned red with anger. "Eberts!" He turned to Darien and Bobby. "Alright, the two of you found out what you came here for. Now get out of my office." He glared at the two men, practically daring them to do otherwise.

Bobby gave the Official an indignant glare and started to protest, but Darien grabbed him by the arm and dragged him out of the room. "Fawkes!" Bobby protested as Darien slammed the door shut, effectively shutting them out in the hall.

"I know what you were about to do in there," Darien said, "and the only thing it would've done was to get you locked up in the padded room for a month."

Bobby raised an eyebrow. "This place actually put up the dough for a padded room?"

"Well, with a chronic nutcase on their hands, they thought it'd be a good idea!" As he took in Bobby's enraged expression, Darien realized he'd gone too far and held up a hand apologetically. "That's not what I meant."

"Oh yeah? Then what did you mean?" Bobby challenged, crossing his arms and glowering up at Darien. It was at times like this when he wished he were about a foot taller. Just once, he wanted to be able to tower over the person he was angry with.

Darien opened his mouth to reply, but before he could get the words out a shapely knee connected with his crotch. He collapsed to the ground at the feet of an irate Sophie. "You bastard," Sophie hissed as she kicked Darien roughly in the gut. "You knew that file was gone, didn't you? You sent me in there and made me pretend that I was actually attracted to that... that sniveling little pencil-pusher," Sophie made a face, "for nothing!"

Darien groaned and rolled over, trying to guard his vulnerable areas and catch his breath. "At least he got something out of it..."

Sophie bent down and wrapped her fingers in Darien's hair, yanking his head up so she could look him in the eye. "If you ever try to pull anything like that on me again I will personally see to it that you're unable to have children." She let go of Darien's hair, straightened up, turned, and walked off icily down the hall.

Hobbes cleared his throat. "Well, I was seriously thinking about hurting you there, but I think she just covered it..."

Darien coughed as he finally managed to pull himself to his feet. "Yeah, with interest."

"Thought you said she couldn't fight?" Bobby inquired.

"That wasn't fighting. That was just plain dirty. MacCleary's always been good at dirty."

"I'll remember not to get on her bad side, then," Bobby muttered.

Darien nodded. "Definitely a good idea..."

"You seem to have a hard time remembering that," Bobby smirked.

Darien frowned. "Let's just get back to work..."

**********

"OK, so we've got three possibles," Darien stated. "Rick Sampson, Jonathan Fulton, and Richard Minosa."

Bobby nodded, looking over the list. "And Sampson looks like a write-off to me. I mean, sure, he was an important member of the project, but he's been retired for a while now. Long before... well, before Blaque went over the edge," Bobby stammered, loathe to mention his suspicions as to Allianora's willingness to participate in the project -- or lack thereof -- to anyone just yet. His last psychiatrist would have said that he was merely trying to project his own feelings onto someone else so that he wouldn't feel so alienated. Bobby didn't think that his last psychiatrist's opinions were worth crap, but he wanted to be careful just the same.

Darien shook his head. "Nope, we shouldn't rule him out yet, Hobbesy. We don't know enough about Alli to do more than guess at her motivations."

Bobby strongly disapproved of Darien's nickname for Allianora, but said nothing on the subject this time around. "I'm telling you, we don't need to worry about him."

Darien sighed in exasperation. "Who's the senior agent here, you or me?" Her didn't wait for an answer. "I know what I'm doing here. And I might actually be able to teach you a thing or two if you're willing to learn."

Bobby crossed his arms. "I might could teach you a few things too, ya know. Things like you don't go after a guy you got no grudge against. Blaque probably never saw this guy in her life and even if she did, she probably has no reason to hold a grudge on him. He never poked her with a needle or anything, did he?"

Darien's eyes narrowed. "So you're sure enough that she wouldn't go after him that you'd risk his life by not bothering to protect him?"

"Watching him would just be a waste of our time," Bobby insisted stubbornly. "These two need protection more," he tapped Fulton and Minosa's profiles with his index finger, "because they had direct contact with her. You want revenge, you want it on the guy who did the damage, not the guy who sanctioned it."

Darien snorted contemptuously. "Fine. If you're such an expert, then tell me who Alli's gonna go after first."

Hobbes stared at the two remaining profiles, and then finally pointed at Fulton's photo. "He's the one she'll go after first."

"Got any proof to back this up?" Darien challenged.

Bobby shook his head. "Just a gut instinct."

Darien gave Bobby a stern look. "In this line of work, gut instincts can get you killed."

**********

Half an hour later, Darien parked his car in front of Fulton's house. Bobby, comfortably situated in the passenger seat, shook his head as he observed the quiescent neighborhood around him. It was a classic example of suburbia. Neatly trimmed hedges, close-clipped lawns, and long rows of houses plopped side by side, each one looking almost completely identical to its counterparts.

Such sights always gave Bobby the impression that some massive factory had dropped the houses down one after another in a giant assembly line. He couldn't help but wonder if the people who lived inside the houses looked as obviously manufactured. How people could live in these oversized doll's houses never ceased to amaze him. Better a crappy apartment building that actually looked like it had some sort of personality than one of these lifeless domiciles.

Darien stepped up onto the small slab of concrete that served as a porch and rapped his fist sharply on the door. Much to both his and Bobby's surprise, the door readily swung open. However, there was no one standing inside to greet them. "That's not good," Darien said, his hand automatically straying to the holster around his waist.

Bobby bent down and examined the doorknob, and then pointed at the lock, which had scratch marks on it that indicated it had been picked. "Someone broke in. Didn't do a very good job of it, either."

Darien motioned for Bobby to step out of the way and drew his gun. "Looks like your gut got lucky."

Bobby shook his head. "I hate it when I'm right...."

Darien cautiously stepped into the house, gun at the ready. Bobby followed, making sure to keep a respectable distance between him and the gun barrel. He raised an eyebrow as he and Darien walked into the living room. The place was a shambles. Books, videos, and any other items that hadn't been glued down were scattered all over the room. The coffee table was overturned, and one of the couch cushions had been ripped open.

"Well, I think we can rule out a robbery," Bobby said, pointing to a thin trail of blood that led out of the room.

Darien looked suspiciously at the blood trail and bent down to touch it. "Still fresh," he said, grimacing at the sticky redness that remained on his fingers after he lifted them up off of the carpet.

"So... she's here?" There was no need for Bobby to clarify the statement. It was fairly obvious whom he was referring to.

"Might be," Darien said, shrugging his shoulders noncommittally. The tight grip in which he held his firearm belied the casualness of his tone. He began to follow the blood trail, walking out of the kitchen and down the hall, coming to an abrupt halt as he beheld the closed door of the master bedroom. Bobby walked up behind Darien, dread congealing in the pit of his stomach as he saw that the blood trail went right under the closed door.

"After you," Bobby said, gesturing for Darien to open the door.

"You can go invisible. I can't."

"Yeah, but you're the senior agent."

"Oh, so now you'll admit it," Darien griped. He reluctantly reached out and twisted the doorknob.

The door swung open slowly, revealing a gruesome sight. Fulton lay on the bed, his eyes frozen wide in terror and glazed over with death. A dark-haired woman straddled him across the chest, nonchalantly licking blood off her fingers. Bobby recognized her face from the photographs he had seen earlier; there was no doubt in his mind that this was Allianora Blaque.

Allianora turned and surveyed the two men who had swung open the door with a cold, red-eyed gaze. Bobby shivered. Was that what he looked like when he was Quicksilver mad?

"Well," she said, flipping a strand of hair away from her face with one still-bloodstained hand, "you boys are a little late."

Darien aimed his gun at Allianora with one hand and fumbled for his handcuffs for the other. "OK, you're under arrest for the murder of..." he paused for a moment, calculating mentally, "seven people."

"Eight," Allianora said, a cocky grin on her face. "And they all deserved it. Every one of them deserved to die. It wasn't murder, it was justice."

Bobby pointed at the dead body Allianora was sitting on. "That isn't justice. That's just sick."

"What's sick is what they did to me," Allianora hissed, climbing off the body and standing to her feet.

Darien lunged for Allianora and slapped one of the cuffs on her wrist. "Yeah, well, you can tell us all about what they did to you and how unfair it was from a nice little eight- by ten-foot cell."

Allianora gave Darien a cruel smile. "Haven't you heard? I'm dangerous. You're supposed to handle me with care." Before Darien could react, she grabbed his wrist and bit his hand. Darien jerked back and pushed Allianora away, swearing loudly.

Bobby hurried over to Darien's side and barked in a take-charge tone, "Hold still." Then, before Darien could protest, Bobby Quicksilvered his hands and placed them on the spots where Allianora had made contact with Darien's skin.

"Damnit, that hurts!" Darien yelped as the ice-cold surface of the Quicksilver touched his skin, trying to pull away.

Bobby held on firmly. "I said to hold still!"

Darien bit his lip, but stopped struggling. Bobby held his hands on the wound for a moment longer, and then let go. "I think that'll keep the poison from spreading," he said, allowing the Quicksilver to fall from his hands.

"Where'd she go?" Darien asked, looking around the room for Allianora.

Bobby rushed over to the bedroom window just in time to see her climb into a car and drive off. He heaved a deep sigh. "She got away."

Darien shook his head, cradling his frostbitten hand to his chest. "That's just great. That's just freakin' great."


	6. Part Five

_ Quick author's note: OK, I know it's been forever since I updated, and I would like to offer my most sincere apologies for that.... Real Life and the bunnies (or lack thereof) are to blame. However, believe it or not, we are nearing the end of this little story. Just two more chapters to go, after this (I think) and the story will be complete. So hang in there!_

Part 5

Bobby couldn't contain the smirk that crossed his features as he stood in a corner of the Keeper's lab. It was Darien's turn to sit in the uncomfortable chair. Claire had insisted on checking Darien out completely to make sure that Bobby's quick thinking had properly neutralized the effects of the poison. She also wanted to treat his frostbitten arm. 

"Darien, hold still," Claire insisted, attempting to get a good look at Darien's injured hand.

Darien pulled away irritably. "Look, you had your fun with Hobbes, so just leave me alone, OK?"

Bobby raised an eyebrow. "C'mon Fawkes, you know it's for your own good."

Darien grumbled petulantly, "If this were the other way around, you'd see things differently."

Claire crossed her arms, her voice taking on a parental tone as she said, "Darien, this won't take long if you will just sit still. And it will help you feel better in the long run. Now, are you going to behave, or do I have to sedate you?"

Darien rolled his eyes and held out his arm, muttering something about doctors and how they were always eager to stick people with needles. Claire's eyes narrowed; apparently, she had heard what Darien said much better than Bobby had. She poked Darien roughly in the ribs with one elbow and then began her ministrations.

Bobby crossed his arms, watching Claire and Darien interact. They had obviously known each other for more than a few days, or even a few weeks. They had a familiar rapport that usually only developed after having known someone for several years. Then again, Bobby mused, they did both work at the Agency. Darien had been working here for quite a while. Why shouldn't he know some of the staff?

Still, Bobby couldn't shake off the thought that there was more here than what met the eye. The sheer level of comfortable familiarity bespoke of them being something more than coworkers. Not a romantic involvement; there were a whole different set of signs for that, and Bobby saw no trace of them here. This was more like the bond one noticed between siblings, or close family. But obviously, the two weren't related.... Bobby shook his head, deciding to cut off his line of thinking before he gave himself a migraine.

The door to the lab swished open and the Official walked in, Eberts following close on his tail. Bobby ran a hand across his face as he realized he might very well get a migraine after all.

"Status report," the Official snapped, his gaze automatically fixating on Darien.

"I'm a little busy right now--oww!" Darien yelped as Claire began to bandage his injured hand.

The Official turned his icy gaze on Bobby. "Don't look at me!" Bobby protested.

Eberts peeked out from behind the Official, "Well, Agent Fawkes is preoccupied at the moment, and you were apparently the only other person accompanying him, since Miss MacCleary came into the Official's office ten minutes ago demanding to know where you had gone...." The Official turned and gave Eberts a harsh look. Eberts gave a nervous cough. "Shutting up, sir."

Bobby groaned and absently rubbed the back of his neck. After a moment he decided that the only way to get Eberts to shut up was to start talking, and besides, everything would be discovered sooner or later anyway. "Fawkes and I came up with a list of people Blaque might go after. We headed over to the first guy's house, but he was..." Bobby blanched at the memory, "he was dead. Blaque was still there, but when Fawkes tried to cuff her she bit him."

"And?" the Official asked. "Where is she?"

"She got away," Bobby said, giving a half-shrug.

The Official's face darkened with anger. "You let her escape?"

"No, he saved my life," Darien called from his position on the chair, but the Official blatantly ignored him.

"I am very disappointed in your conduct," the Official snapped, glaring at Bobby.

Bobby returned the glare all too willingly. "Yeah, well, if you were the one who'd almost gotten killed, I think your point of view woulda been a little different."

The Official's lip curled upward in distaste. "I don't have time for this. Eberts!" He walked out of the lab, obviously expecting Eberts to follow.  
Eberts turned, but stopped for a moment and looked at Bobby. "You did the right thing," he said quietly. Then he walked out of the room.

Bobby frowned, considering Eberts' comment. Normally, he would have appreciated the sentiment wholeheartedly, but coming from the Official's yes-man.... Oh well, no matter. It was the thought that counted, and it felt good to have someone supporting his decisions, even if it was that pencil-pushing Charlie Brown.

Claire finished her ministrations and then gave Darien a firm pat on the shoulder. "All done."

"It's about time," Darien grumbled, albeit in a good-natured fashion. He stood up and moved his bandaged hand around for a moment experimentally, then nodded his approval.

"Be very careful with it," Claire cautioned.

Darien rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, I know. Don't use it too much over the next few days, and don't get the bandages wet."

Bobby grinned. "I see you've made a few trips to the doctor's office before."

"No, he's been treated by me a few times before," Claire returned, shaking her head. "More than a few times, as a matter of fact." She turned to Darien, raising an eyebrow. "You just don't know how to keep out of trouble, do you?"

Darien shrugged. "It's a gift."

"One I'm proud not to share," Bobby snickered.

Darien balled his uninjured hand into a fist and shook it a few inches away from Bobby's nose. "I could change that, ya know."

Bobby held up his hands in mock-surrender. "Alright, alright, point taken."

Darien turned toward Claire and gave her a quick nod. "See ya later."

Claire nodded in reply. "Later."

Darien walked out of the room. Hobbes gave Claire a gentle wave and an uncharacteristically shy smile. Then followed Darien out of the room, having to walk at a faster pace than was comfortable to keep up with Darien's long strides. "So... what's our next move?"

Darien sighed, his shoulders slumping and his brow knitting as he made a visible transition into his working persona. "We check out Sampson and Minosa to make sure they're still alive, and if they are we get some sort of protection for them."

"Protection being you, me, and Sophie," Bobby muttered. He was starting to get a very clear picture of the way the Agency operated. Minimum personnel, minimum funding, minimum security, minimum everything. And yet the Official still expected results, and good ones at that. No wonder Darien looked depressed half of the time when he was on the job.

"Yeah, except I wouldn't consider Sophie an asset."

Bobby raised an eyebrow, "I can see why she didn't like bein' your partner. You're not exactly givin' her much chance to prove herself, here."

"There's nothing to prove," Darien hissed in exasperation, "I've learned first-hand how badly she does her job."

Bobby shook his head. "You forget, I saw her playin' Eberts in the archives. She wasn't THAT bad. Kinda blunt, but not bad."

Darien heaved an irritated sigh. "You saw her at the lab Alli escaped from, too."

Bobby started to form a retort, but only got as far as opening his mouth before he realized that he couldn't think of any way to defend Sophie's words and actions. "Yeah," he finally acquiesced, "I see your point."

Darien grinned triumphantly. "I thought you might."

Eager to change the subject since it had become obvious that this was one argument he wasn't going to win no matter how hard he tried, Bobby brought up a hand to scratch his scalp and asked, "How long do you think it'll take to convince Minosa and Sampson to let us spy on them for the next few days?"

Darien smirked. "You're changing the subject."

Bobby bristled, as much because Darien had read him like a book as anything. "Am not."

"Are too."

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

The sounds of the childish argument echoed off the walls as they finished the trek to their janitorial-closet-turned-office.

***********

Darien heaved a deep sigh and massaged the bridge of his nose with the thumb and forefinger of his uninjured hand. He was frustrated and bored, not to mention the fact that he was desperately in need of painkillers.

Because Minosa seemed to be in greater danger of Allianora's revenge, Darien and Bobby had decided to watch his house first. However, Minosa had flat-out refused any kind of protection until Darien and Bobby had fully explained the situation, including the fact that Fulton had already met an untimely demise. And even then he had insisted that the security be kept minimal. So, Darien had ended up guarding the front door while Bobby and Sophie guarded the back, with nothing more to keep them in contact than a crackly radio set that sounded like it had been bought second-hand from a McDonalds.

Minosa had obviously placed a great deal more trust in his own personal security systems than he did in the Agency's choice of bodyguards, but Darien couldn't really blame him. After all, he and Bobby looked more like street-thugs than legitimate agents because of their mutual disregard of the usual dress codes, and Sophie acted more like a fashion model than a fed. And then there was Darien's hair, which always caused a great deal of skepticism until he flashed his badge.

Still, Darien was far from happy to be stuck staring at the front door of a house that was undoubtedly much warmer than the interior of his car, which had neither a heater nor air conditioning and was uncomfortable in just about any weather. He had a jacket, so his arms were warm, but his un-bandaged hand was beginning to feel suspiciously like an ice-cube, and the bandaged one was still sensitive from its recent exposure to the icy cold of the Quicksilver.

After fumbling a bit Darien managed to locate the radio, which had fallen to the floor between his feet. He raised it to his lips and pressed the talk button, saying through clenched teeth, "Calvin to Hobbes, Calvin to Hobbes. Give me your sit-rep."

"What the hell is a sit-rep?" Bobby snapped irritably. Before Darien could reply, however, he heard Sophie's voice crackling faintly and incoherently over the speaker. After she finished her explanation Bobby's voice echoed out of the radio again, rather sheepish this time. "Uhhh, everything's quiet back here. No sign of the red-eyed drama queen."

Darien made a face, both pleased and displeased by the news. Pleased because it meant there was no danger as of yet, and displeased because it meant they would have to sit out here in the cold that much longer. "Same here, Hobbes." He debated on commenting on Bobby's having to discover what a sit-rep meant from, of all people, Sophie, but finally decided not to. Bobby had seemed embarrassed enough as it was. "Calvin out."

He reclined back in his seat and tucked his hands under his armpits, wishing that his car were just five degrees warmer. The only good thing about it being so chilled was that it kept him alert. Of course, he would have much preferred to have a mug of coffee in his hands; that would have kept him both attentive and warm.

And, naturally, thoughts of warmth led him to think of Sophie, her apparent crush on Bobby, and the many ways she might be trying to keep him warm. His hand immediately lunged for the radio. "Hobbes?"

"What, Calvin?" Bobby snapped.

Darien faltered, unsure of what to say. "Umm... you sure everything's OK over there?"

"Everything's fine. But it's freakin' cold out here!" Bobby grumbled incoherently for a moment and then asked, "How much longer before we can go home?"  
Darien sighed. "Word of advice, Hobbesy -- do not ask questions to which you already know the answers."

A loud sigh echoed over the radio. "Damnit, Faw-- err, Calvin...."

Hey, you're not the only one who's unhappy about this," Darien snarled, his temper rising. "Just sit tight. Either she shows, or she doesn't. 'Till then, keep your eyes open. Calvin out." He dropped the radio in his lap and huffed in frustration. At the moment, he wanted nothing more than to go home and collapse into bed. After he took some painkillers, of course. Painkillers were absolutely mandatory.

**********

Bobby didn't know how much more torment he could take. Ever since he and Sophie had been sent to the backyard to make sure Allianora didn't slip in through the back door, Sophie had alternated between hitting on him, snipping at him when he turned down her advances, and shivering from the pervading chill in the air. In regard to the latter Bobby had offered her his jacket purely out of habit, but as this had only persuaded her to renew her seduction attempts he eventually took it back and moved as far away from her as was humanly possible.

"Stupid sex-crazed freak," he muttered, very happy that Sophie had decided to go and sulk in the opposite corner of the yard.

"Jerk!" Sophie yelled; whether in response to Bobby's comment or not, he couldn't be sure. He hadn't thought he had spoken loud enough for her to hear, but it was entirely possible that he had underestimated her sense of hearing. He was certainly angry enough.

Bobby decided that a verbal response would not be as effective as a physical one and sent a very rude gesture Sophie's way, quickly turning to look in the opposite direction before she had the chance to reciprocate. Darien was immeasurably lucky; after all, he had gotten to stay in the car! Bobby would have given his right arm to be in that warm, enclosed space instead of out here braving the elements and doing his best to ignore a woman who was not only ditzy but completely insane....

He was about to break the tense silence that had fallen upon the yard with another lewd comment when a rustling sound reached his ears. It was definitely not the wind, and as he turned around it became quite obvious that it was not being caused by Sophie either. It was coming from the ivy-covered fence on the far end of the yard.

He lifted the radio to his lips, hitting the talk button and whispering, "Fawkes, we've got company." Then he crouched low in the shadows, hoping that Sophie had the sense to do the same, at least until the moonlit figure that he could now see swinging its legs over the top of the fence had climbed the rest of the way down and moved close enough that it would not have the chance to escape when they tried to take it down.

As soon as the figure's feet touched the ground, Sophie drew her gun and rushed forward. "Freeze!"

Bobby tensed, ready to Quicksilver and leap forward if their quarry attempted to escape. But that proved unnecessary as the person turned around, revealing not Allianora but a pasty-faced teenage boy. He looked from Allianora to Bobby, an astonished expression on his face.

Sophie blinked in confusion. "What the hell?"

Not willing to dismiss the possibility of Allianora's presence just yet, Bobby scrambled for a look over the fence, then glanced back over at Sophie. "Nothing."

By now the boy had begun to recover his nerve. "Who the hell do you think you are, coming in here and aiming a gun at my head? You've got no right to be here!"

Bobby frowned. "You've got no right to be here, either, you little thief." His mind had instantly leapt upon the most obvious conclusion.

The boy laughed derisively. "I'm no thief. Now tell Scully over there to stop aiming her gun at my head and beat it, before I call the cops."

"We are the cops," Sophie snapped, flashing her badge so quickly that all Bobby saw was a blur.

The teenager flinched, but didn't back down. "Yeah, well, I haven't done anything, so you might as well--"

The boy was interrupted as Darien flung open the back door of the house and stepped out into the yard, brandishing his gun in his free hand.

Bobby sighed; in all the craziness, he had forgotten to radio Darien about the false alarm. "Chill, Fawkes, it ain't her. We caught some wannabe punk instead." He frowned, looking at the boy's face more closely. "Looks kinda familiar."

Darien took one look at the boy, then holstered his gun, looking completely exhausted and frustrated. "He should. He's Minosa's son."


	7. Part Six

_OK, being that I'm on vacation at the moment I had to save this HTML in Word, so the formatting may come out a little, shall we say, awkward?  I apologize in advance if it does._

Part 6

"Mr. Minosa, it was an honest mistake," Darien said, thinking of a number of very choice curses he would like to be rattling off at the moment.  He was standing in Richard Minosa's plush living room, trying to appease the irate scientist.  However, Minosa was having none of it.

"How is arresting my son an honest mistake?" Minosa bellowed, giving Darien a stern glare.

"He climbed over the fence like a criminal.  I'd say it was a pretty damn easy mistake to make," Darien snarled, his discipline failing him momentarily.  He took a moment to calm himself, then continued, "I'm sorry about what happened with your son.  But you have to admit, he's as much at fault here as we are."

Minosa's gaze was about as warm as chilled steel.  "I don't have to admit anything.  Yes, my son snuck out of the house in the middle of the night.  But you still overstepped your bounds."  He walked over to the front door and opened it.  "I can assure you, Edward will be properly punished.  In the meantime, I suggest you get the hell off my property."

Tension radiated throughout Darien's entire body as he nodded curtly, then walked out of the house and over to the car, where Bobby and Sophie were already seated inside.

"How'd it go?" Bobby asked curiously as Darien opened the driver's side door and slumped into his seat.

"How'd you expect it'd go?" Darien replied dully, slipping his key into the ignition.  "We blew it.  Minosa's going to call the Fat Man and we're gonna get a royal ass-chewing.  Not to mention the fact that we're gonna get our pay docked low enough that the best apartments we'll be able to rent out will be made of cardboard."

Sophie frowned.  "It can't be as bad as all that....  I'll talk to him, see if I can't straighten things out."

Darien shook his head.  "You really think that'd work?"

The despondent look on Sophie's face was the only answer he required.

The engine turned over and Darien pulled the car out of Minosa's driveway.  For five minutes no one spoke.  Darien had nothing to say, and the others seemed either too deep in thought or too intimidated by the admittedly reckless driving he was exhibiting at the moment to bother with saying anything themselves.

Bobby was the one to speak first; after the long period of silence his voice seemed extremely loud even though he barely spoke above a whisper.  "We must've missed something."

Darien stared out at the road ahead of him, seeming to ignore Bobby but in actuality thinking along exactly the same lines.  If Minosa had been Allianora's next target, she would have tried something already.  She was very impulsive... and very quick to do something once she made up her mind, if what he had seen of her actions in the past 24 hours was any indication.

"Whatever it was," Bobby continued, "I don't think it's in the files.  I think it's personal."  His lips pressed into a thin line.  "She's not gonna go for Minosa, not yet."

Darien blinked once, twice, as Bobby's words sunk in.  Then he yanked hard at the steering wheel, ignoring Sophie's protests as he made an illegal U-turn and began to drive at an ever-increasing speed.  After all, if Minosa wasn't the target....  "That leaves Sampson."

**********

Rick Sampson's place of residence could hardly be called a house.  It was obvious that he had managed to acquire a great deal of money at some time in his life, whether through his own work or through an inheritance, and had invested a good deal of it into his home.  It was a small mansion, with Greek influence visible in the architecture and any number of expensive accoutrements used to decorate the house and surrounding grounds.

If Bobby weren't trying to kick his long-time thieving habit, he would have been tempted to list this place as a potential mark... and a very profitable one, at that.

"Hey, Hobbes."  Sophie's voice cut into Bobby's reverie, effectively shattering it.  "Get out of the car.  We're supposed to scout the perimeter."

Bobby groaned.  "Not again...."  He looked around, berating himself for not paying enough attention to protest Darien's decision.  It was too late now, though; Darien was already walking up to the front door.  Bobby got out of the car, stretched in an attempt to reduce the tension that had built up in his muscles and followed Sophie as she started to move out and investigate the grounds.

They had only gotten about 100 feet away when Darien called out to them.  "Wait!  Come back."

Bobby turned and jogged over to the building, Sophie right behind him.  "What's up?" he asked, although from the expression on Darien's face he already had a good idea.

Darien pointed to the front door.  The lock was mangled in a similar fashion to how Fulton's had been.  "No need to keep watch.  She's already here."

Sophie squeezed her way in between Darien and Bobby so that she could have a look at the door as well, then drew her gun.  "Let's get her, then."

Darien held up a hand, indicating for Sophie to wait a moment.  "It's a big house, our best option here is to split up.  Hobbes, you're with Sophie."

Bobby shook his head.  "Forget it, Fawkes.  With that hand, you're gonna need some kind of backup."

Darien considered for a moment.  "Alright, Hobbes is with me.  Sophie, you take the first floor, we'll take the second."

Sophie grinned.  "If I catch her first, you are so going to owe me dinner and a movie, Fawkes."

Darien raised an eyebrow.  "Sophie, this isn't the best time...."

Sophie stuck out her tongue defiantly.  "I catch her first, you owe me dinner and a movie.  You catch her first, I buy you Chinese take-out for a week."

Not willing to wait and find out whether Darien agreed or continued to protest, Bobby flung the door open and walked inside.  After a few more seconds of bickering Darien followed, catching up to Bobby momentarily.

"I've had about as much of that as I can handle," Bobby grumbled.

"Try working with her for sixteen months straight," Darien replied.  "I swear, my I.Q. dropped ten points."

"Only ten?" Bobby deadpanned.

The two men slipped into silence as they walked up the stairs and began a thorough search of the second floor.  Bobby's eyes flickered left and right, searching for any indication that Allianora was there.  He dry-swallowed a few pills, wishing that he had remembered to take them earlier, as he kept thinking he saw glimpses of a female figure out of the corner of his eye.  This wasn't the first time low lighting and his paranoia had ganged up on him, but right now was definitely not a good time for it to happen.

Darien halted in front of a cherry-stained wood door and held up a hand, indicating that Bobby should stop as well.  As Bobby leaned closer it became apparent that there were two people inside, holding a hushed but tense conversation.  Darien turned the doorknob, easing the door open silently.

The door opened onto a bedroom filled with expensive furniture and wall-hangings.  A king-sized bed had been placed in the far corner, and that was the area that drew the attention of both men.  Allianora was standing at the foot of the bed, which was occupied by a singularly terrified Rick Sampson.

"...So you see, Rick, justice must be served," Allianora purred.  "And after what you did to me, the fact that I'm only killing you is a mercy."

"What did he do?" Bobby asked.  Darien's eyes narrowed into an irritated glare, but Bobby didn't care.  He might have given away their position, but he had to know what he had missed, what both of them had missed.  And they were high enough off the ground that Allianora couldn't jump out a window as she had last time; the only way out of the bedroom was the door, and Bobby and Darien were blocking that.

Allianora turned smoothly to face Darien and Bobby.  She didn't look angry at their presence, simply peeved.  "You two again?  I would have thought you might have given up after last time."  She raised an eyebrow as she looked Darien up and down.  "Speaking of which, how did you survive?"

Darien shrugged.  "I'm not an easy man to kill."

Allianora seemed to accept the statement, at least for the moment, and turned her attention back to Bobby.  "I have no reason to tell you anything."

"But you and I, we're in the same boat," Bobby said, trying to distract Allianora from what she had been about to do long enough for him or Darien to do something.  "We both got dragged into something we hate.  We've both been treated like freaks and lab-rats.   If there's anyone in here you should be able to talk to, it's me."

"What're you doing?" Darien hissed through clenched teeth.

"Buying us time," Bobby whispered.

As Allianora's temper rose, her eyes seemed to turn an even darker shade of crimson.  "You think you know what I've been through?  You have no idea.  You haven't been subjected to training methods that would make a Marine cringe, been poked and prodded every day for ten years, been raped by one of the top members of a project you never volunteered for to begin with...."

"How's that?" Bobby asked, his mind boggling at the prospect of how a man could even manage to kiss a woman whose touch was deadly, let alone rape her.

"I was ten.  I'd only been on the project two weeks," Allianora said, her eyes cold.  "I wasn't toxic yet, they'd only just started to feed the poisons into my system."  She gestured toward Sampson, her face contorted into a snarl.  "This man is a child-molester."

"I don't know what she's talking about!"  Sampson said, sitting up in bed.  "She's lying.  She's insane!  You're not going to believe some crazy woman, are you?"

Bobby looked over at Darien, filled with disgust at what Sampson had done.  Allianora might be insane, but Bobby had experienced the madness and he knew that while it manipulated his perception of the truth it had yet to make him depart from reality.  And judging from Darien's expression, he too was more inclined to believe Allianora than the frightened, tired old man lying in that huge bed.

"We could lock him away for that.  Put him in the slammer for the rest of his life."  Bobby was improvising; he had no idea whether or not it would be possible to find any tangible proof of what Sampson had done.  But it sounded just convincing enough that Allianora might buy it.

The sneer on her face made it apparent she didn't.  "You expect me to believe that?"

Bobby sighed.  "It was worth a shot."

Darien spoke, his tone sarcastic.  "Am I allowed to arrest her now?"

Bobby nodded.  He had the information he had wanted, although he was now wishing he had never found out.

Darien stepped forward, careful to keep a safer distance than he had during his last encounter with Allianora, and said, "You're under arrest.  Again.  You have the right to remain silent--"

Allianora leaned forward and then leapt at Darien, quickly crossing the distance between them.  Darien yelped and tried to step back, but lost his balance and fell over backward.  His gun skittered across the floor, and Bobby rushed to pick it up.  However, by the time he had it in hand, Allianora was poised above Darien, her lips inches from his.  Darien lay unmoving on the floor, every muscle in his body tense.

"Crap."  Bobby tried to think of a way to reason with Allianora, unreasonable as she was at the moment.  "You're never gonna get out of here alive if you do that."

"Who said I wanted to get out of here alive?" Allianora droned calmly.  "I'm perfectly fine with leaving in a body-bag as long as I take someone with me."

Darien decided to risk speaking.  "Look.  We can work things out, here.  I have a friend who might be able to find a cure for that whole red-eyed insanity thing."

Allianora laughed.  "No one can find a way to cure me, and I wouldn't care if they did.  I like being this way."  Still, despite her words there was a sadness in her eyes that Bobby could not ignore.

Bobby took a step closer.  "I think you're lying.  I think there's a part of you that can't stand what you've done over the last couple of days.  How you killed all those people...."

"They deserved it." Her jaw tightened.

"Did they?" Bobby asked forcefully as he took another step.  "You didn't think Jimmy Deharty did.  How many of those scientists were just following orders?  How many of them really knew what they were doing to you?"

Allianora took a shaky breath.  "Stop it."

But Bobby wasn't about to let up.  "If they deserved justice, what about you?  You've killed eight people.  Eight!  And now you're about to kill someone else, someone who hasn't done anything to you.  If those others deserved to die, what do you deserve?"

"Stop it!"  She sounded desperate now.

"No, you stop it."  Bobby looked directly into Allianora's eyes, refusing to flinch at the sight.  "You can stop all this.  Just stand up and move away.  You don't have to kill Fawkes.  You don't have to kill anybody."

"You... don't... understand...."  Allianora gritted her teeth.  "The more I fight it... the worse it is when it gets loose.  I've been... fighting it for years.  I... I can't any more."

Bobby bent down beside her, sure that he was close to helping her make a breakthrough.  "You can."

Allianora closed her eyes, her breath coming in quick gasps.  She started to pull away, but stopped, sweat appearing on her brow.  Then her eyes snapped open and she glared at Bobby with utter hatred.  "I CAN'T!"

Before Bobby had the chance to pull back she ripped the gun from his grasp and aimed it at his head.  Bobby flinched, his eyes closing reflexively.

"So long, freak-boy."

And then the sound of a lone gunshot filled the room.

End Part 6

_Ain't__ I so evil?_


	8. Part Seven

Bobby held his breath and waited for the searing pain as the bullet ripped through his body. But there was nothing... nothing but the thud of a body hitting the floor. A body that definitely wasn't his.  
  
Utterly confused, Bobby opened his eyes. Allianora's body lay crumpled on the floor, blood seeping from a hole in her chest. He stared at her, his brain unable to come up with a logical explanation for how what he was seeing had come to pass.  
  
Darien sat up, glanced past Bobby to the door and said, "It's about time you showed up."  
  
Bobby turned around. Sophie stood in the doorway, her gun raised. He heaved a sigh of relief as he finally understood what had happened. Before Allianora had had the chance to shoot him, Sophie had shot Allianora.  
  
Sophie nodded toward Allianora. "What are we going to do with the body?"  
  
Darien stood to his feet, wincing from the collection of bruises he was beginning to develop. "We call in back-up." He turned his attention to Sampson, who was no longer in bed but standing close to the door, probably calculating the best time to make a run for it. "And as for you...." He pulled out a pair of handcuffs. "You're coming with us."  
  
Sampson began to protest indignantly, but Darien paid him no mind. Bobby followed Darien and Sampson out of the room, still in a state of shock, milder though it might be. He found himself wondering if Sophie's aim was really as bad as Darien had claimed.  
  
**********  
  
Darien sat in a chair opposite the Official's desk and wondered just how many more headaches he would be able to take before he was driven back to drink. All the Official had done for the past 30 minutes was yell; Darien had drowned out the sound of his voice long ago. For some reason Bobby still appeared to be listening, as was proven by his somber expression and his tendency to flinch whenever the Official let loose a particularly vehement outburst.  
  
The Official seemed to have toned down his ranting a bit, which indicated he was finally finishing up, so Darien tuned back in.  
  
"...and because of your severe incompetence, coupled with the fact that you managed to kill the very thing I had sent you to retrieve, I am docking both of your pay."  
  
Darien winced. His pay was already low enough that he was barely able to scrape up enough money for rent as it was.  
  
And then Bobby did one of the worst possible things he could have done. He spoke. "Uh, sir? We weren't the ones who shot Miss Blaque. And she wasn't a thing, she was a woman." Bobby's expression darkened as he finished speaking. Apparently, he had taken the Official's comment very seriously.  
  
Oh, well. As long as the Official was going to yell again, Darien might as well spread it out a bit. He knew for a fact that it wasn't pleasant to be the sole beneficiary of one of the Official's rampages. The Official had never seemed to think he was anything more than a reckless drunk who wasn't worth the bed he slept in, despite the fact that Darien hadn't touched anything that even vaguely smacked of alcohol within the last five years. As such, Darien had been on the receiving end of many such speeches over the years, and had quite aptly mastered his own personal way of dealing with them.  
  
"He does have a point, sir. We weren't the ones who shot her," Darien said, leaning back in his chair and forcing a casual smirk on his face. Time to play the grinning idiot, the reckless agent who couldn't care less whether his job was at stake. In all honesty, he cared a great deal. But he wasn't about to inform anyone of that fact.  
  
"I'm sure you'll be pleased to know I won't be partnering either of you up with Agent MacCleary, or anyone else, for quite some time," the Official said testily. "The two of you deserve each other," he said, glaring at Bobby, then letting his gaze focus on Darien. "One more screw-up like this, Fawkes, and your employment here will be terminated."  
  
It figured. Now that Kevin was dead, the Official had no reason to keep Darien on as an employee. Darien would have to be extra careful, because from now on it wasn't just his pay that was on the line. "I understand, sir," Darien said, managing to keep his temper in check. He had no intention of kissing up to the boss, but he would watch his words more carefully for a while.  
  
"Good." The Official gave Darien a nasty smile.  
  
Bobby cleared his throat. "Sir, I need to get my shot...."  
  
"And I need to have the Keeper check up on my hand," Darien added, glad that he now had a possible way out.  
  
The Official looked displeased, but said, "Very well. Dismissed." He gave Darien a pointed look. "I trust you will come in bright and early in the morning?"  
  
Darien had to bite his tongue to keep from groaning. He was not a morning person, and as such was habitually late. "Eight A.M., sir."  
  
The Official nodded and then returned to his paperwork.  
  
Darien and Bobby stood, then walked out into the hall. As soon as they were out of hearing range Bobby hissed, "I don't like that fat bastard."  
  
"I don't know anyone who does," Darien replied.  
  
**********  
  
Bobby's claim that he needed a shot had been true, but he didn't need it that badly, not yet. So when Claire insisted on taking care of Darien's hand first, he had no problem with waiting. He was still trying to figure out the odd bond that seemed to have been formed between them, but with no more success than before.  
  
"Seems to be coming along nicely," Claire said. "You should be fine, but let me know if anything unusual happens."  
  
Darien nodded. "Will do." He stood up, stretching, and said, "OK, I've got a mountain of paperwork calling my name." He pointed toward Bobby. "You've got one calling yours too, so get up there fast. I'm not gonna do this all by myself."  
  
"Yeah, sure," Bobby said noncommittally. He had no intention of going anywhere near paperwork if he could help it. Darien walked out the door, and Bobby sat down in the counteragent chair. He looked over at Claire as he rolled up his sleeve. "So, uh, how long have you known Fawkes?"  
  
Claire tensed, but forced a casual smile on her face as she began to prep the needle for the counteragent. "What makes you ask that?"  
  
Bobby shrugged. "The two of you act like you know each other. Very well." He realized what it sounded like he was implying as soon as the words were out of his mouth, but it was too late to take back his words now.  
  
"No!" Claire exclaimed, with a vehemence that surprised Bobby. He'd been expecting a reaction, but not one of that ferocity. "No, we, he and I... no." Claire cleared her throat. "We met each other six years ago. We've kept in touch since then."  
  
"I woulda thought you'd done a little more than kept in touch, judgin' by the fact that you're working in the same building," Bobby said, his suspicions still not completely erased.  
  
"We're friends, Bobby. We could never be more than that."  
  
Bobby stuck his tongue in his cheek for a moment, pondering Claire's statement. Then he nodded slowly. "OK."  
  
Claire raised an eyebrow. "Just a moment ago you were insinuating that Darien and I were involved in intimate relations, and now you're OK?"  
  
Bobby leaned back in the counteragent chair nonchalantly. "Sure, why not?"  
  
"Judging from your medical history, you have a very difficult time letting go of something once you become suspicious about it. I would hardly think your reaction right now would be a simple 'OK'." Claire looked properly flustered.  
  
"Yeah, well, guess there's a few things my medical history don't cover, huh?" Bobby said, both teasingly and as a challenge. "Like maybe the fact that I accept stuff easier from people I trust."  
  
Claire's lips twitched up into the beginnings of an enigmatic smile. "So, does this mean you trust me?"  
  
Bobby shrugged. "I trust Fawkes and Fawkes trusts you, so I figure I might as well take a shot at it too."  
  
Claire's smile bloomed in full. "That's sweet, Bobby."  
  
Bobby blushed and rapidly decided that he needed to change the tone of the conversation. "Besides, you've got a great ass."  
  
Claire's jaw dropped, which was exactly the reaction he had been looking for. "Alright, that's it, this is going in your neck," she said, holding up the now full needle of counteragent and giving Bobby a dangerous look.  
  
"But, but, but – ahh!" Bobby yelped, as Claire made good on her word. Not quite the reaction he had been hoping for after all....  
  
**********  
  
Darien stood in a darkened corner of Lab 101, his figure enshrouded in shadow. Claire sat across the room looking through her microscope at one of Bobby's blood samples that she had taken earlier; only the rigidity of her posture betrayed her tension. She knew exactly why Darien had decided to pay her this after-hours visit, but she wasn't going to be the one to initiate the conversation she dreaded so much.  
  
"Well?" Darien spoke quietly, his dark-clad form betraying no visible emotion.  
  
"He trusts me," Claire said, resisting the temptation to cast more than a casual glance Darien's way. "Or at least, he's willing to try."  
  
Darien brought a hand up and rubbed the bridge of his nose, a flicker of... something briefly appearing on his features. It was difficult to tell whether it was anger or guilt. "I should never have gotten him involved in this, Claire. I didn't think when I told Kevin that this... any of this would happen." He sighed. "I just wanted to do the right thing, Claire."  
  
"I know, Darien." Claire stood up from her research, giving Darien a half-hearted smile. "I promise you, I'll take care of him to the best of my abilities."  
  
"Yeah, but you'll take care of the gland to your best abilities too, won't you?" Darien said harshly. "You'll take extra-special care of Kevin's little brain-child."  
  
Claire took in a sharp breath. "Do you think I want any more people to die over this?"  
  
Darien stepped out of the shadows, his lips pressed into a tight line, looking down at her with that stern expression that both Fawkes brothers had mastered so well. "No, but if the fat man orders you to rip that thing out of Hobbes' head, I know you're gonna be the one who lays him out on the operating table."  
  
Claire stared at Darien in astonishment. But, for all her outrage at Darien's accusations, she found herself unable to refute them. "Get out of here," she snapped. "You have no right to torment me like this."  
  
But Darien showed no signs of leaving. "You think you're being tormented? Hobbes may not be free of this place for the rest of his life. At least I'll have an early retirement to look forward to. And you can walk out any time you want, if you'll just stop trying to live in the past."  
  
"I am not living in the past!" Claire yelled. "I am helping to preserve the future!"  
  
"And you're doing an excellent job," Darien said bitterly. "I'm warning you, Claire, if something happens to him...."  
  
Claire turned away coldly, sitting down and continuing her experiments. "Stop trying to ease your conscience by making idle threats. I am going to do everything I can to ensure Bobby's safety."  
  
"Yeah, well, I just hope his trust in you hasn't been misplaced." Darien turned and walked out the door. Claire made no attempt to stop him.  
  
**********  
  
The sky was dark and clouds poured over the heavens, making the Francine Jefferson Memorial Cemetery even more foreboding than it usually was at that late hour. A chill wind blew through the area, in stark contrast to the warm breezes that had wafted through mere hours before.  
  
In the most remote corner of the cemetery, a lone man hovered over a grave. The marble slab that served as the grave's parker was simple and inexpensive; the man standing over it appeared ordinary and unimposing. Yet, there was a cold arrogance to his demeanor that suggested it was dangerous to ignore him.  
  
A thick, beefy hand stretched out to trace the name that had been carved into the marble: 'Arnaud De Föhn'.  
  
"So, I leave you alone for a few weeks and this is what happens?" the man reprimanded. "You go and get yourself killed." Hand moved up to face, fingers rubbed idly against beard. "But... it is probably for the best, you know. I probably would have killed you anyway." The man straightened, his face breaking out into a wry grin. "Don't worry, I'll avenge your death soon enough. After all... no man can do enough for his brother."  
The End  
I know, suspense and more suspense, with no ending in sight.... Told you this was turning into a series. Hopefully, the next story will come soon. 


End file.
